They stretch'd in never-ending lineWith apologies to William Wordsworth.
Along the margin of a bay:
Ten thousand saw I at a glance,
Tossing their heads in sprightly dance.
Monday, 19 May 2008
I wander'd lonely as a cloud (well actually I was on a bus full of commuters) That floats on high o'er vales and hills, When all at once I saw a crowd, A host of golden daffodils; (I think they are weeds) Beside the lake, (make that motorway) beneath the trees, (well he got that right)Fluttering and dancing in the breeze.